


part 13.

by holdingdaylight



Series: Heartstrings Verse [14]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Nerd!Blaine, Skank!Kurt, Skank!Quinn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23573473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdingdaylight/pseuds/holdingdaylight
Summary: Kurt only feels lost while everyone else finds themselves in New York City.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Series: Heartstrings Verse [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/142974
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	part 13.

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are on Day 12! Nostalgia! I thought it was time to catch up with these kids, now that I'm not a kid anymore. I can't believe it's been 6 years since I first started any of this. This one is for Laura and Elsa, who are still with me to this day.

With nothing but a suitcase and his dad’s support, Kurt finally goes to New York.

Quinn was already there. It was the middle of the night when she told Kurt that she was leaving, throwing rocks up at his window until he woke up. _‘See you, sucker,’_ she said from the front lawn, a duffel bag by her feet. 

She always did say she was going to go far away.

Kurt didn’t know how to do that, because the furthest he had gone was looking at the moon with Blaine, when it was full and bright, and Kurt didn’t need a telescope to see how big it made Blaine feel.

It only made Kurt feel small and insignificant, like the way you see a star - because stars were bright but they were long since dead. Blaine had taught him that.

“You know,” Blaine said one afternoon out on the front porch. He was purposefully sitting a few feet away from Kurt, because Kurt had grease and oil smudged across his torso from working at his dad’s shop, and Blaine refused to dirty his polo. “If you wanted to go, I would go with you.”

“Go where?” Kurt asked while he played with his lighter, going through the motions of lighting up a cigarette he wasn’t allowed to smoke.

“New York, with Quinn.”

Kurt’s lungs ached, and he so badly wanted to put the motions into action and finally light a cigarette. “You wouldn’t last a day in a city like that.”

“Try me, Kurt Hummel,” Blaine had teased, looking as infuriating as he did the day they met.

So Kurt went.

-

If anyone weren’t lasting in a city like this, it was Kurt.

Maybe because he decided to come here with Blaine and Quinn, who couldn't be in the same room for more than five minutes at a time. 

Blaine wanted Kurt to move in with him in his apartment, closer to Hunter College than where he and Quinn were in Bushwick, but the idea of seeking physical shelter in Blaine Anderson was almost enough to get Kurt back on a plane to Lima.

Mostly because he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide a smoke if he were to live with Blaine.

And maybe because he was terrified about needing Blaine so much.

“Okay, if you want to complain about the heat, then you can pay for the bill!” Quinn yelled at Blaine, who sat on their living room floor shivering underneath one of Kurt’s jackets. “We can’t afford to have it any higher!”

“All I’m s-saying is that -” Blaine’s teeth were chattering too hard for him to speak clearly. “-m-maybe you would sleep better if you weren’t s-so cold at night. It’s scientifically p-proven.”

“Kurt, control your boyfriend!”

“Blaine, come here,” Kurt said, pointing at the space between his feet. Blaine glared at Quinn before crawling to sit between Kurt’s legs, where Kurt wrapped himself around Blaine as best he could without bumping Blaine’s Nintendo 3DS from his hands.

Quinn was a waitress at a restaurant too fancy for any of them to dine at. She had to remove most of her piercings and keep her pink hair away from her face, but she did it because on Thursday nights they would let her sing, and that only made the tips that much better.

Quinn had plans. She was going to go to school, maybe, if she could save up enough. She wanted to write and make music, had journals full of words that Kurt had never heard before. It was like Lima had been suffocating her, silencing her, but now she could scream and cry and no one could stop her.

Kurt certainly wasn’t going to try, even when Quinn’s guitar strumming kept him up throughout the night. More than the cold ever could.

Blaine tutored in between his classes. He signed up for general studies, and to the surprise of no one, he was already acing them. Kurt was sure to remind Blaine of that whenever he began to doubt himself. In Kurt’s eyes, there wasn’t and wouldn’t ever be anyone smarter than Blaine Anderson.

They didn’t talk about what Blaine wanted to do eventually, because _eventually_ was a scary word, and if they were to talk about Blaine’s future, then eventually they would have to talk about Kurt’s.

Kurt had been here for a total of six months. The most he accomplished was dying his hair a soft purple and getting his first tattoo, but he couldn’t even decide on that; the skull and rose were taped to the artist’s wall when he walked in. All Kurt had to do was decide where on his body he wanted it.

He’s a master at pretending, however. He went months convincing himself that he didn’t want Blaine as much as he did. He powered through four years of high school by pretending that it was easy. So this, this act of living like a normal human being, with goals and ambitions - Kurt can do it. 

It’s only difficult watching Blaine and Quinn piece together their lives, because he’s so unsure if he will always play a part in it. 

-

Life is stagnant.

You can only throw a rock into a puddle so many times to make the water move. Then you’ll run out of rocks, or then the puddle will dry up. He watches from the shore as everyone else makes waves, as he can hardly create a ripple.

He wants to do something, he really does. A long time ago now, he bust through the doors he thought were locked and entered the real world, away from high school and all its torments. The thing about high school though was that everyday counted towards something - getting out. 

In the real world, the only escape is death.

If Kurt gets trapped, if he makes a decision and regrets it, or isn’t good enough at it, isn’t enough for it, what happens if he has no other options? No other stones to throw?

The worst part is how much Blaine seems to understand that Kurt just _can’t_, not yet. He never pushes, never suggests, like he has enough belief in Kurt that he can figure it all out on his own.

There’s a bar a few blocks over from his and Quinn’s apartment that was desperate enough to hire Kurt. He doesn’t do much besides check coats and ID before stamping someone’s wrist, but it puts him close to the live music they play nightly. 

It’s never good, someone always out of tune or singing a song that’s been written ten times already, but it’s better than listening to himself in his head.

Tuesdays are slow for the bar, which usually means Kurt can sneak away from his desk and watch the performers from the entranceway. He’s finishing checking guests in, executing the repetitive motion of asking for their ID and then stamping their hand when someone says, “I like your look.”

Kurt actually looks at the person speaking, unused to anyone paying him any attention where he stands behind his desk. 

“Thanks,” Kurt says plainly, only offering the man a simple smile. “Made it myself.”

“I can tell,” the man says, raising his expressive and dark eyebrows. He has his brow pierced too, and his blue eyes are traced with black liner. “I’m Elliott.”

He extends his hand, but Kurt ignores it in favour of handing him back is ID. “I know. Elliott Gilbert.”

“Ooh, you’ve got a mouth on you . . . ?”

“Kurt.”

“Kurt,” Elliott says, fiddling with the edge of his ID as he stares at Kurt. “Well, if you get bored back there, come out and join us for a drink.”

Kurt only nods and stamps Elliott’s wrist, ignoring his wink as best he can.

Whoever he is, he doesn’t look intimidating. He looks bold and unique, like his whole life is built around making sure there isn’t ever another one of him. Kurt doesn’t have the energy to care that much.

Once Kurt’s done checking in any stragglers, he steps out from his desk to stand and observe by the doorway. He doesn’t know the band or particularly enjoy their style, too slow and sad, but it’s something to look at and listen to, at least.

He rolls his eyes as Elliott, in all his glitter and silk, slides closer to him. “So, are you a musician, too?”

“No,” Kurt says with a harsh laugh. “But I’m guessing you are.”

Elliott beams. “I don’t mean to brag, but I have been called Lady Gaga’s male counterpart.”

“Sounds like bragging.”

“Not when I’m the only one calling myself that.”

Kurt laughs harder than he means to, harder than he has in a while.

“Are you a student?” Elliott asks as they both turn to watch the band on stage. “Or is this your only gig?”

Kurt stiffens, but doesn’t let it show. He hopes the purple light flashing around the room masks his fallen face. “This is it for now.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s next?”

“I have no fucking clue.”

It’s Elliott’s turn to laugh, clapping Kurt on the shoulder as he sighs. “You’re a standup guy, Kurt.”

“And you’re a liar.”

“No, really,” Elliott says and turns to face Kurt, looking down into his eyes with intent that Kurt doesn’t recognize. “I’ll give you my number, okay? Maybe music isn’t your thing, but if it is, we can work something out. I’m in a band, and I bet they’ll like your look just as much as I do.”

It could be all the flashing lights, leaving Kurt in a daze, but as he hands Elliott his phone, he feels the faint brush of hope along his skin. He can’t categorize that hope, can’t figure out what it’s for or if he’s even allowed to feel it, but it sticks to him all the same.

Elliott winks at him again as they part ways, Kurt having to go back to his desk to check someone out and give them their coat. For the rest of the night he feels confusion, dread, but the only feeling that sticks is hope.

-

The city is quiet when Kurt leaves for the night, just past two o’clock. He looks down to zip up the rest of his jacket and looks up to see Blaine waiting for him on the sidewalk. 

“Blaine, it’s after midnight,” Kurt says with concern, because Blaine is rarely up this late and his teeth are chattering despite his dozens of layers.

“I don’t have a bedtime, Kurt.”

“Yeah, anymore.”

Still, Kurt’s heart leaps once they’re side by side, swelling when Blaine knocks their elbows together and says, “I wanted to make sure you made it home alright.”

At least in all this unknowing, Kurt knows Blaine. He’s familiar in every way, his sound and scent and secrets. Kurt knows everything about Blaine, and he isn’t scared anymore that Blaine knows everything about him.

Even all the things Kurt isn’t so sure of himself.

The sky is clear tonight, but they’ve both long since learned that even on the clearest of nights, they’re unlikely to see many star formations. That hasn’t stopped Blaine from getting excited about the moon phases and changing of the seasons. It hasn’t stopped Kurt from knowing that the stars are still there.

His phone goes off once they near Kurt’s apartment building. Kurt looks at the text message and smiles before pocketing his phone again. 

“Quinn?” Blaine asks, his eyes so warm and curious on Kurt’s face.

“No, uh, it’s this guy that I met tonight.”

“Oh.”

“No, not like that,” Kurt says quickly, tugging on Blaine’s jacket to pull him closer and erase that look on his face. He doesn’t care how scared he feels, he will never fear what he feels for Blaine. “His name is Elliott, he’s in a band, and he likes my look.”

“It is a very interesting look,” Blaine agrees, but he holds Kurt’s hand possessively, folded up tight together.

Kurt shrugs. “It’s just who I am.”

“I know.” Blaine smiles, and even though they can barely see the stars, Kurt thinks he wouldn’t need to when Blaine looks like that. They both glance around to see if they’re truly alone, before Blaine kisses him with all the warmth in the world.

-

The snow won’t stop falling, so Kurt decides to sleep at Blaine’s for the night. His apartment is warmer than theirs ever could be, illuminated by twinkle lights and candles. It could almost be considered romantic, if Blaine didn’t have posters of all the Avengers on every wall in his living room.

Elliott must’ve gotten tired of waiting to hear from Kurt, because he texted Kurt first, with links to his band and their rehearsal times, inviting Kurt to hang out later on in the week. There’s no pressure in his request, nothing about Elliott sounding forceful, only hopeful.

Which is why Kurt hasn’t responded, because he was wrong, because Kurt can’t be that hopeful. 

What good would it do? He doesn’t know what’s at the end of this path. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to turn around, if there’ll be a dead end, a maze he has to work through or a sign that says he has a million miles more to go.

This could all be another branch in a tree that’s doomed to die.

He wants to but he can’t.

Blaine is getting ready for bed, madly brushing his teeth like he hasn’t done it in months, while Kurt sits on Blaine’s bed in a too-large sweater and his boxers. With the curtain open, Kurt watches the snow fall outside the window and processes thoughts he wishes he didn’t have to think.

“Blaine, I -” He’s already speaking and he can’t stop, especially not when Blaine looks at him from the bathroom doorway, patting his face dry with a towel before sliding his glasses back on.

“What?”

Kurt tries not to break as he finishes what he’d wanted to say; “I think I should go home.”

Blaine frowns and sets aside his towel. “Now? I’m not sure the subways would be running as frequently, but I can order you an Uber.”

He laughs, so sadly, and hopes Blaine’s earnestness never fades.

“I mean home as in Lima.”

Blaine laughs then, too, uneasy and bordering on panic. “Uh, what?”

“All I’m doing here is draining my bank account on an apartment I can’t afford and doing the same job everyday,” Kurt begins to splutter, because if he doesn’t say it fast then he won’t say it at all. “I could be figuring all this shit out back home, with my dad, and not - here, where everyone else is going somewhere -”

“You are going somewhere, Kurt,” Blaine says as he moves to sit on the bed beside Kurt. “You made it _here_, of all places. Isn’t that somewhere?”

“But here isn’t the answer, Blaine.”

“Of course it isn’t.” When Blaine looks angry, it shows with his whole body. Kurt has to take him seriously when he looks at Kurt like that. “But it’s somewhere, and you won’t find it if you just pack it up and go home.”

“What if there isn’t any answer?” Kurt is panicking now too, grasping for stability when he knows there wasn’t ever any there. “Quinn figured it out on her first day here. You’re kicking ass at school, you’re on the honor roll already! And I hang up coats, Blaine.”

Blaine’s hand on his back brings Kurt back down to the ground, but he knows like always it’ll never be enough for that long. “This isn’t your forever, Kurt. Listen to me, hey, actually listen to me.” He cups Kurt’s jaw and turns his face towards his, giving Kurt no choice but to look and listen. “Why are you so sure there’s a finish line? That this is even a race?”

“Isn’t it?”

“If it is, you’re the only one running.”

He feels tears push up behind his eyes, breaking him down to get out, and he’s so tired of holding it all in. “What if I’ll never have it figured out because this is it for me?”

“No,” Blaine says with a soft laugh. “Not you, not Kurt Hummel.”

Kurt wishes he could believe in him. Blaine Anderson is the smartest boy in the world, but there’s no way he can know this. He has to close his eyes to stop from crying and cries anyway, saying so quietly, “I’m just so scared, Blaine.”

He’ll never know how Blaine does it, how he can make himself the biggest person in the room by wrapping his arms around Kurt and pulling him close. How he can still do that even now, in New York City, with so many more rooms and so many more people.

“I know you are. I am too. This isn’t some small town in Ohio, I’m not the smartest kid in any class,” Blaine says, but he doesn’t sound scared. “I could graduate with honors and still be jobless. I might end up hating my degree, I don’t know, but if I’ve learned anything since coming here with you . . . it’s that if I’m not meant to do something, then there’s something else out there for me.”

“I just don’t know if - if I can do it. Lima is small potatoes to all of this.”

Blaine smiles, giving Kurt’s back a tight squeeze. “But it wasn’t to you then.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, but accepts it when Blaine pulls him in for a kiss.

“Have you messaged that guy about the band yet?”

“No,” Kurt says with a dismissive shake of his head.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to?”

Kurt exhales shakily before nodding. “Yes.”

Blaine lights up with his grin, tackling Kurt down and against the bed. “Then do it,” he says, peppering kisses to Kurt’s forehead. “And if you don’t like it, or can’t do it, then you can move onto the next thing.”

“Like it’s that easy?”

“Like it’s that easy.”

Kurt has no choice but to smile underneath Blaine’s lips, as he thinks and remembers and realizes that this is just another lesson, one of hundreds, that Blaine has had to teach him, because just like then, Blaine Anderson really is the smartest boy in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> See you all tomorrow for some childhood!klaine! 
> 
> (and we purposefully didn't do day 11, soulmates, because every AU is a soulmate AU when it comes to Kurt and Blaine)


End file.
